


Meant To Be

by munibunny (b_cat)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider, Possessive Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_cat/pseuds/munibunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once he gets a taste of being near Stiles, he can’t stop. Stiles is beautiful… and meant to be <i>his</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meant To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Flashfic, written in one hour for Fullmoon_Ficlet on LJ. Prompt 48 - Possessive. These characters are borrowed and only gently used.

He’s beautiful. There’s really no other word. Stiles is a beautiful, hot mess. 

At first, all he does is check on his boy, just a little glimpse here or there, he can’t help himself, really. But once he gets a taste of being near Stiles, he can’t stop. Stiles’ energy burns bright and beautiful, it always has. 

He remembers all of their little moments, from the first time he caught sight of the boy in the library, to watching him at lacrosse practice, and sharing fries with friends at a diner. These moments point to something so very obvious -- Stiles is meant to be his.

Someday, they’ll be friends, and then so much more. He can already see it in the little smiles Stiles will throw his way when they’re in the same room. He treasures these moments just as much as the precious times Stiles speaks, captivated by every nonsensical word that comes out his boy’s mouth. It makes him dream about a future where Stiles will have eyes for no one else, when all of his words will be just for him.

As it is, Stiles’ caramel colored eyes already light up when he’s in the room. He _knows_ this is true. Stiles’ body will lean toward him unconsciously even when there are others in the room between them and even when there’s an entire playing field of space that separates them. Stiles will arch his back minutely and extend that long neck in invitation. It’s a subtle little dance his boy does to arouse and awaken his desire. He longs for the day when Stiles will come to him openly, when they won’t have to hide what they feel for each other. 

He has waited so long already, it isn’t difficult to wait a little while longer. 

In the meantime, he watches. 

The Jeep is in the shop overnight, he made sure of that, and he nearly jumps for joy when Stiles opts to walk home instead of catching a ride with a friend because it means so much more time to gaze at his boy. He knows he should follow at a discreet distance but he can’t help himself.

For a while, he’s close enough to see the gentle sway of the boy’s ass and the play of muscles in his back as he glides along the sidewalk. Stiles’ body moves with the grace of a gazelle now that he has grown into his long limbs even with his overloaded backpack slung across one shoulder. He studies the curve of his boy’s hip, the dip in his spine, and the flex of his thighs in the too tight jeans. 

Stiles’ hair gets tousled as he runs his slender fingers through it. It’s a nervous gesture his boy developed sometime when it grew out long enough. 

He stumbles as he catches a glimpse of Stiles profile, mesmerized by the pink of his boy’s lips. These lips are made for kissing, the wide mouth made to take his cock. He imagines it often, sliding between those lips as his boy looks up at him with his trusting doe eyes. 

He can’t be blamed for not noticing the frown at first.

He really should be proud to know that Stiles is aware of his presence, it’s confirmation that he and his boy are that much in tune with one another. But it’s a little too much too soon because Stiles is spooked.

It isn’t obvious at first. Stiles takes detour after detour instead of heading straight home until they end up circling a block right in the center of town. And then Stiles makes a quick phone call, glancing over his shoulder like a skittish animal before ducking into a nearby store. 

There’s a darkness eating away at his insides now, it’s an ache, a hollowness he can’t shake because Stiles has never reacted this way before. He feels betrayed, even though he knows his Stiles would never betray him. Stiles is his. They have a connection that can’t be denied. 

He feels untethered for the first time in weeks, months maybe, so he prowls the street in front of the store, watching and waiting for his boy to come out again, fighting the urge to barge in and stake his claim. 

Ten minutes later, when he’s reached a state of panic that Stiles might have snuck out a back door, a familiar face catches his eye. 

And now he’s afraid for his boy. Even though Derek Hale was exonerated, he’s way too suspicious a character. Even now, there’s a hint of barely controlled violence in the man as he strides purposely up to the storefront.

Then…

“God, Derek… thanks!” Stiles voice rings out as his boy bounds right up to Hale.

Something sour and ugly twists in his gut. 

Hale’s jaw is set tight, steely eyes darting up and down the street as the man stares down everyone in sight. It takes all of _his_ willpower to keep from glaring right back.

Stiles loops his long fingers around Hale’s wrist and… _No!_ He wants to scream.

His boy is speaking, face earnest as he tugs on Hale’s arm, obviously urging him to move, but Hale won’t budge. Instead, he brings his broad palm to Stiles’ neck and pulls his boy closer, till their foreheads are nearly touching. 

And Stiles… _smiles_.

This is wrong! So wrong! His boy is meant to be _his_. The bastard cannot be allowed to touch his Stiles with so much familiarity. 

He closes his eyes against the images that invade his mind, his boy pressed against the man’s body, the two of them writhing, naked between the sheets, arms and legs entwined, Stiles’ pale flesh on display for someone else’s eyes. It’s vile and disgusting. He can’t think about Stiles being defiled by this man. It makes him sick to his stomach. 

And then the unthinkable happens. Derek Hale’s pale eyes fix on him as he mouths a single word. Even with the distance separating them, it rings out loud and clear… _Mine._


End file.
